


Ever After

by messyfeathers



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil has slightly psychic tendencies, I Tried, Just A Weird One, M/M, Non-Scary Wedding, Semi Non-Canon I Guess, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messyfeathers/pseuds/messyfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos never thought he would have preferred the blood and gore of a soulbinding to the frills and fluff of a wedding ceremony, but wedding planning and tulle always did seem a bit more frightening than mystic chanting and a soft meat crown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally like getting this far ahead of canon, so I originally wasn't going to write this, but a few people asked if I would and then an 18-hour road trip came along so this happened. So here it is: a cheesy Cecilos wedding because why not. :] (I guess sort of a sequel to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1086026/chapters/2195133).) (also please listen to [this lovely playlist](http://8tracks.com/ugly-myfanwy/take-my-hand-take-my-whole-life-too-1) while you read - trust me, it will make sense about halfway through!)

At the sound of the knock, Cecil almost opened the door out of habit before stopping himself.

“Carlos?” he whispered through the door.

“I hate bowties,” came the exasperated reply. Cecil smiled to himself.

“It’s bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

“Then close your eyes?” Carlos suggested. With a laugh, Cecil shut his eyes tight before opening the door and pulling the scientist inside.

“Did you try a mirror?” he asked as his practiced fingers blindly untied the messy knot and smoothed out the silk into neat loops. Years of living without the assistance of a mirror tended to provide one with a few unexpected talents.

“You know how bad I am with coordination,” the scientist mumbled. The subtle tone of resignation to his voice suggested there was more to his frustration than just the tie. Cecil made a curious little noise that asked the question without saying anything. Communication became much simpler when a part of your conversational partner’s soul was connected to your own. “We got bound last week,” Carlos sighed. “I don’t know why we still have to do all this.”

“Well,” Cecil explained patiently for the fourth time in as many days, “we’re getting married for several reasons. I’ve always wanted a wedding, and your family expects a wedding. And soulbinding is wonderful and eternal and all, but I’ve been washing dried blood out from under my fingernails for days now. Weddings are frills and dancing and happiness. Don’t you want our relationship to reflect both sides of life?” Carlos gave an undecided little nod as Cecil adjusted the bow to lie flat. “Besides, binding is a concept I grew up with, but marriage is one you grew up with. I want you to have something familiar to start off this next chapter too.”

“I know, I’m just nervous I guess,” Carlos shrugged. “There’s too many people. What if I trip or just completely forget my vows or throw up or something?” Content with the state of the bow tie, Cecil stopped adjusting and moved his hands to the back of his fiancé’s neck to pull him in for a kiss to his forehead.

“Breathe.  You’ll do just perfectly.” The scientist took a blind step backwards towards the door. “You look gorgeous,” Cecil added. Unused to dressing up, Carlos had been rather clueless what to wear until Josie helped him find a tweed suit that fit him nicely. After several days of heated debate, he and Cecil had even reached a compromise on his hair; they spent the night before the ceremony working on cutting it together in an evening Carlos could only describe as ‘ _intimate_ ’ and Cecil could only describe as ‘ _permanent emotional trauma_.’

“Are you peeking?” Carlos asked suspiciously, though he was glad to know he had been self-conscious about the outfit for nothing.

“Of course not! I’m not dumb enough to mess with a force as deadly as luck. You are about to run into the corner though.”

“How would you even know that if you aren’t-” Carlos took another step back and ran directly into the pointed edge of the wall. “Don’t say a word,” he laughed as he turned to leave before he could sustain any clumsy injuries.

“I love you,” Cecil sighed mostly to himself as he went back to getting ready.

\--

It was completely unsurprising that when they decided to have a wedding ceremony, Cecil had pulled out a large, old scrapbook filled with fabric swatches and smears of colors and vintage photographs of flowers and couples and, for reasons yet unexplained, goats. Carlos had let him babble on excitedly about venues and bouquets and foods and the subtle variations between ‘celadon’ and ‘honeydew’ (which both looked suspiciously like the exact same shade of pale green). He didn’t complain about the mysterious absence of a cake, or the empty row of chairs left open for any members of the spider community who wished to attend. Even the tradition of burning the left sock before the ceremony for good fortune hadn’t bothered him, but he had still been a bit dubious that the eclectic combination of decisions would all pull together. But in the middle of the vacant lot behind the Ralph’s that had seen so many horrific events, every detail seemed to harmonize into something truly wonderful.

Little metal seats had all been set out in even rows for the guests. Behind John Peters (you know - the farmer-slash-presiding-officiant) sat a row of potted sunflowers, faces tilting to bask in the warm afternoon light. And there, in the little bloodstone circle in the very center stood Cecil, all neatly composed in a vintage three-piece brown suit complete with patches on the sleeves and a green tie (celadon or honeydew, Carlos couldn’t remember which specific color Cecil had finally settled on after hours of deliberation) that matched his own - and looking for all the world like the happiest person alive. Carlos carefully counted his breathing with his steps across the open space, willing his feet to function properly and the coffee his sister had finally forced him to drink for breakfast to stay down. Eleven breaths and he was standing in the little ring of faintly glowing red stones, and Cecil’s fingers were reassuringly finding their natural place between his own as they turned together towards John Peters.

The farmer began the ceremony with a poetic, lyrical analogy on the importance of the summer solstice in the growth of living things. The metaphor concluded with a beautiful prediction from the astrological almanac on the good portents for the coming future of Aries and Capricorn. The entire recitation would have seemed slightly more appropriate if the summer solstice hadn’t already passed nearly two months prior, and if Carlos weren't a Taurus and Cecil an Aquarius. But John Peters looked so proud of himself for his craftsmanship as he grinned his toothy smile, and the sentiment really had been quite beautiful and poignant, so the couple within the bloodstone circle smiled right back. He announced the portion of the vows, and handed them each a ring. Cecil took a deep breath and went first, working entirely from memory.

“Ever since I was young, I have found life to be strange and confusing. I realized early on that if you are fortunate, people will cross your path who will take blind steps in the darkness with you, and it’s wise to hold on to them. If you are truly, exceptionally lucky, they will even give your life a bit of meaning in an otherwise meaningless plane of existence. Carlos, you have given my life so much meaning.” He paused to slip the ring onto the scientist’s finger. Carlos had worn the token religiously during the eight months they had been engaged; although it had only been removed a few hours before the ceremony, its absence had felt abnormal and unsettling. “I promise to listen, to support you, to treasure you, to help you, to always protect you,” the briefest flicker of something crossed his face as he paused nearly undetectably “and to always love you until time ceases to exist.” The strange expression vanished, again leaving him with the widest, brightest smile Carlos had ever seen. He tried desperately to grasp for the words he had rehearsed over and over for days now.

“I never expected you,” he began in a far smoother voice than he had anticipated he could manage. “My life was ordered rows and even numbers until you turned my world upside down. You make me believe in a hundred things that I never knew could exist. You make me want to be a hundred things I never thought I could be.” His hands were a little shaky as he tried to slip the onyx ring onto Cecil’s finger, but he somehow maintained his steady tone. “So I promise to love you, to meet you halfway, to trust you and care for you, through the good and bad, through stars and void,” he had lost one of the phrases along the way and he knew it, but at least had remembered the last line he had slipped in specially, “until time ceases to exist.” Cecil’s eyes went watery as the audience joined as one into an ominous wordless, wandering song. The melody ended abruptly on a strange, unnerving note several minutes later and the attention was turned back to John Peters.

“By the power vested in me by the FFA, I now pronounce you married. You may now kiss the groom.” In a single smooth motion, Cecil swung Carlos down into an honest-to-goodness old-fashioned dip and kissed him for so long that the scientist started to laugh. The reception was just as simple as the ceremony. It was, in fact, just on the edge of the scrublands that several round tables had been set out between a few of the cacti, which had in turn been diligently wrapped in colorful paper lights by some of the NVCR interns. In one corner of the little gathering sat an old jukebox, manned by a slightly visible warble in existence that most of Night Vale had come to recognize as Erika’s unrevealed form. The touch from the angel brought the jukebox to life, and familiar older tunes drifted out from the colorful glow. By the time Cecil and Carlos arrived to the party, most everyone else was already chattering away excitedly. In the middle of the tables stood a bleating, spotted goat that looked miserable and lost. Cecil grew unreasonably excited at the sight of the pitiful animal.

“It’s an important tradition,” he explained. “Each member of the couple reaches into the goat’s mouth to the furthest molar, and there they each find a scroll. One scroll will read the fate of the couple, the other will read the name of the next person to be married. It’s like the tradition you were telling me about with the tossing of the flowers over your shoulder.” Carlos stared at him skeptically. Tossing a bouquet to an excited group of girls and reaching into the mouth of a goat to find a magical scroll sounded incredibly different, but traditions were still traditions and they were meant to be upheld. He shook the saliva off the little bundle of paper he had retrieved with some definite effort and unrolled it cautiously. In perfect calligraphy the words ‘ _good fortune_ ’ stared up at him. The gathering of people cheered as he announced them aloud. As he read the words one last time to himself, he almost felt like cheering too. It was disconcerting that such a strange tradition could somehow mean so much to him, but if a scrap of paper wedged between the teeth of a farm animal believed he and Cecil would be happy, then surely fate or something like it was in their favor. Cecil excitedly unrolled his little scroll and quickly read out the name.

“Dana!”

Somewhere in the party, Dana squeaked loudly. There was a ripple of laughter all around as everybody began to speculate the implications of such a prophecy. The jukebox switched over to a Buddy Holly song, and Cecil reached out a hand towards Carlos. Dancing was something the scientist wasn’t particularly good at, but Cecil was graceful and had a splendid way of leading the steps in a fashion that made his partners look and feel like they were dancing much better than they really were.

“I told you you would do perfectly,” he sighed as they swayed gently to the rhythm.

“The first dance isn’t over yet, there’s still time to trip,” Carlos joked. “Also I forgot a whole line of my vows.”

“It’s alright, I knew what you meant,” Cecil reassured him as he effortlessly twirled him in a circle. “Though I suppose now wouldn’t be a good time to tell you that if you had missed any words in the binding ceremony, there’s a chance we would have died.”

“There was never a good time to tell me that,” Carlos laughed as he let Cecil spin him out in one direction, then back in so that he was wrapped close in his arms. “So, Mister Palmer-Vasquez,” they had debated whether or not to hyphenate for weeks, Cecil finally insisting it flowed nicely together even if it was a little unorthodox, “what now?”

“Well, now we dance I suppose. And probably eat something. Lunch feels like a very long time ago.”

“No,” Carlos laughed again. “I mean what’s _next_? For us. Happy ever after?”

“What?” Cecil sounded slightly repulsed by the phrase.

“Happy ever after. It’s how all the fairytales end. ‘ _They lived happily ever after_ ’,” he explained.

“That’s a horrible ending,” Cecil replied as he spun Carlos back around so they were swaying again. “It’s unrealistic, and if we never feel sadness then how can we ever truly know what happiness is? How about an ending where I make you coffee before work in the mornings, and we argue passionately twice a year about your hair, and in the evenings we watch re-runs of the Walking Dead? A long string of mundane moments that shouldn’t matter, but they will because _you_ matter, and I want to share every mundane moment of my life with you.”

“Sounds like a happy ending to me,” Carlos whispered with a kiss before the song ended and the guests ringing the gathering applauded. As the sun set in a fiery display over the desert, the party grew more and more lively. The happy couple danced with each other, they danced with Old Woman Josie and Carlos’s grandmother, they danced until the sun set entirely and the festivities were only lit by the lights wound around the cacti and the glow from the jukebox. One-by-one they dutifully thanked each guest in attendance, which was quite a feat since although they had only officially invited a handful of people, practically the whole town had turned out to witness the wedding of the celebrity couple. Even Kevin showed up, slightly to Carlos’s discomfort. He had been reluctant when Cecil suggested inviting his coworker, mostly because the thought of a bloodstained carbon copy of his husband attending their wedding had seemed unsettling to the scientist. But even that potentially uncomfortable situation had gone well. Kevin had pulled them each in tightly for a soggy hug that smelled of old pennies and offered sincere congratulations before going back to sneaking dimes from the dishes set out at each table and gleefully slipping them into the jukebox in exchange for the cheesiest love songs the 1960s had to offer. Carlos checked frequently on his family who remained for the most part in the relative safety of their own table. They were slightly shell-shocked but per his suggestion asked no questions about the strange ceremony or unusual gathering. Cecil made sure to introduce them to Josie who had an exceptional gift for conversation.

As the night grew late, Carlos found himself caught by Steve Carlsberg who was currently in the midst of an investigation into why the sun seemed to be larger than normal in the sky recently. His theory was based partially in months of research that the local government had apparently attempted multiple times to erase from his memory. Carlos generally had patience with Steve, and tried his best to add the appropriate number of comments into the conversation to be polite, but even he could sometimes understand Cecil’s frustrations with the man. Just as the scientist was nearing the point of saying something abrupt, a familiar hand slipped into his.

“You promised me this dance,” Cecil interrupted impatiently. Carlos pounced on the rescue immediately.

“That’s right, I did. I would love to hear the rest of your theory when I get back, Steve,” he offered with a cordial little nod as Cecil dragged him towards the jukebox.

“I’ll just email it to you; that way you can read it while you’re gone!” Steve shouted after the retreating couple.

“Thank you so much. I don’t know how much more I could have listened to,” Carlos slurred as Cecil slipped a dime into the machine and pressed the number of an old Elvis song. As the melody began to play, he pulled the scientist close and just swayed to the rhythm this time without all the fancy spins and twirls. Carlos leaned his head against the taller man’s shoulder. “It’s our wedding, can’t we just leave whenever we feel like it?” he mumbled with a yawn.

“Too many people?” Cecil asked. Carlos shrugged.

“That and I’m so tired I feel like I might just collapse at any given moment.”

“Just this one last dance, and then I promise we can go,” Cecil murmured into his hair. Slowly and subtly they danced their way to the edge of the light’s reach until the music faded nearly into silence. “Last looks?” Cecil whispered. Carlos glanced back over his shoulder to the little patch of light in the dark desert night. Dana and Steve were twirling each other round and round to whatever song Erika was playing on the jukebox, Kevin was kicking up little clouds of sand doing a ridiculous jive by himself, Josie was telling some story that had the table of Carlos’s relatives all laughing brightly as they nibbled on the corn muffins she had provided for the party. For a moment he was reluctant to leave, but the relief returned as Cecil tugged him towards the shoulder of the highway.

“My truck!” he said with a start as he took off at a brief jog towards the old tawny pickup. “But it spontaneously combusted the week I got to town..” The scientist ran disbelieving fingers over the familiar rusted metal and chipping paint. “How did you bring it back?”

“Are you genuinely asking?” Something in Cecil’s tone suggested that Carlos would rather not know how he had managed to revive a dead automobile, so he shook his head. The bed was already loaded with a few boxes and a suitcase for the trip. As they climbed into the cab, Carlos was met with a wave of nostalgia at the familiar little details: the lingering smell of coffee from a hundred early morning spills, the gaping rip in the old leather from an accident with a badly buckled jar of liquid nitrogen, the radio that only worked when the heater was on. Contentment washed over him as he settled in against the seat and Cecil pulled on to the highway.

“I don’t suppose I get to know where we’re going?” Carlos yawned.

“The airport.”

“I mean after the airport,” he whined. Cecil had been painstakingly discreet about their clandestine honeymoon destination.

“I’ll give you a hint: it’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go,” Cecil offered slyly.

“That’s not fair. I want to go everywhere,” Carlos yawned again.

“Then maybe that’s where we’re going.” The road stretched on quietly for a few miles in front of them. “Do you mind if we stop for the night along the way? The flight isn’t until tomorrow afternoon.” Carlos sat up with a start and a guilty apology for unintentionally nodding off and missing the question entirely. It didn’t matter so much that Cecil had been planning the details of a future wedding since he was a kid; the execution of each of those small details that needed to be done in preparation had been taxing on them both. “You can sleep if you’re tired,” Cecil assured him with an adoring little smile.

“Baby, it’s our wedding night. I’m not gonna sleep the whole way and make you drive by yourself.” He attempted to readjust himself into a more alert, upright position in the passenger seat.

“Listen, we have all the time in the world to keep each other up at night.” Carlos let out an amused snort at the double entendre. “Sleep if you’re tired. I promise I’ll wake you up once we get there.”

“They said that on that James Bond movie too and then the bride got shot through the head while they were leaving the wedding,” the scientist mumbled as he nestled back down into a more comfortable position again.

“Well, I’ve never seen that movie, but it sounds dreadful.” Carlos laughed softly, but the sound was quickly lost into the steady, rhythmic breathing of sleep. Several hours later, a quiet knock at his window woke him. He glanced around at the dark expanse of desert that stretched out all around them as Cecil carefully opened the car door.

“Where are we?”

“We’re here.” The radio host had mastered the art of evasive conversation. He reached out his arms towards his confused but slowly more awake husband. “Let me be old fashioned?” Carlos let out a giggle as Cecil lifted him from the car and carried him around to the back like they were in a black-and-white movie. The truck bed was all aglow with the soft light of a few lanterns, the rough metal interior draped into a nest of blankets and pillows. The suitcase and boxes had presumably been loaded into the back seat of the cab to make enough room for the both of them.

“It’s beautiful, Cecil,” the scientist breathed as he was gently lifted into the truck bed. The other man pulled himself up to sit beside him.

“You like it? There’s a meteor shower tonight. I thought maybe we could count a few shooting stars.”

“I’m glad we did this,” Carlos said quietly, drawing Cecil’s attention back from the night sky. “I mean, I know I was a little unsure about the whole wedding thing, but it’s - it’s nice.” _Nice_ didn’t fit or really even begin to cover the unusual mixture of emotions he was attempting to convey. The thought occurred to him that there might not even _be_ words for the expression. He stopped trying to say anything for a moment to instead wipe at his eyes. “I swore I was absolutely not going to cry at any point in the day,” he said with a frustrated little laugh.

“It’s okay,” Cecil offered, taking over for him and wiping away the stray tear with his thumb, replacing it with a soft kiss. “I know what you mean. I can feel it too.” Eternally glad that words were no longer all that necessary between them, Carlos pulled him into a deep kiss, tugging him back towards the nest of blankets.

\--

“Is this how the fairy tales end?” Cecil asked lazily a while later as he rested his head comfortably along the familiar, warm curves of his scientist’s stomach.

“Most of them have cut out by this point,” Carlos laughed warmly. “At least the Disney ones.” They spent several minutes watching the stars, Carlos content to indulgently twirl his fingers this way and that through Cecil’s mussed hair, Cecil content to feel the scientist’s steady breathing beneath him. A flickering star sprang to life far above them, shooting its way across the night sky.

“Did you see that one?” Cecil asked excitedly, receiving a soft snore in response. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and watched his husband’s dark eyelashes flutter slightly, already lost in a far away dream. People always looked younger when they slept, but something about the scientist seemed almost fragile. Vulnerable. It wasn’t that he was unable to take care of himself; Carlos was brilliant and brave and far more than capable to fend for himself in most situations. But Night Vale had been steadily growing more wild, more untameable, more deadly with each day. Cecil’s eyes wandered down to where his fingers followed the familiar path of smooth scars across the dark skin of the scientist’s chest. The words to his vows echoed through his mind.

_To always protect you._

Cecil wondered vaguely if they would ever be safe again, or if they ever really had been to begin with. It was seeming less and less likely. And realistically, Cecil didn’t have much to offer in terms of protection, but he would be damned if he didn’t do everything within his power to try. “I promise,” he swore to the empty darkness of the desert. Carlos stirred slightly at the sound of his voice, reaching blindly for the warmth of the body next to him. Cecil gladly obliged, pulling the blanket up tight around them to fend off the cooling night. “Goodnight, my Carlos,” he whispered with a kiss to the forehead as he nestled in close. The stars still sparkled above them, mysterious and distant as ever. Cecil couldn’t read them the way he could read the stars above Night Vale, couldn’t use them to predict the future and ascertain what was coming next. His eyes traced along an unfamiliar cluster, studying it carefully and assigning it meaning. “ _And we lived happily ever after,_ ” he whispered, willing the prediction into prophecy before closing his eyes and joining Carlos in whatever distant dream chose to take them far away.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea with the jukebox was heavily inspired and brought about by listening to the playlist in the intro notes while I was writing. Also I realized I write Carlos as really socially awkward which I guess he is but he isn't necessarily always supposed to be. He's just incredibly introverted, and doesn't like to be around crowds of people for extended periods of time. And yes I may have had him dress like the Eleventh Doctor because I think he's really geeky when it comes to sci-fi, and golly I have so many little headcanons about Carlos. And Kevin is precious and terrifying and I love writing him. Anyway I hope this wasn't too silly!
> 
> as always if you would like to come up with cute fluffy headcanons about these dorks I can be found at [montressorspacep0rt](http://montressorspacep0rt.tumblr.com/)~


End file.
